Left-Handed Engineers From MARZ
Secret Santa plans

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“Morning, Zeeeeph’r!” Mariluz called out from behind the reception desk.

Zephyr shuffled over to her, pausing a moment to warm up before he removed his coat. “Morning, Mariluz. I love how you say my name like that. You make it sound exotic or something.”

Mariluz grinned over the counter at him, and at Reg, who waited patiently behind him. “Morning, Regeenald! Look, Zephyr, I ‘ave some candy canes for you.” She pointed to her candy basket, which was usually piled high with kisses or hard candy. This time it contained tiny candy canes in plastic wrappers.

Zephyr blinked at the basket while Reg, having gotten his greeting, headed to the office. “Hm, no thanks,” Zephyr finally said. “Too early for pure sugar.”

“Later, then,” Mariluz insisted. “By the way, I don’ know if you picked up my name or no, but if somebody ‘appen to ask you someting I want, you can say to them a gift certificate to Donatello’s.”

“Donatello’s. Right.”

By the time Zephyr got to his office, Reg was already downstairs. He hung his coat up on the empty peg behind Reg’s desk and sat down to gather his thoughts. Donatello’s, he thought. Mariluz had come out and announced her gift of choice. Was he supposed to do that? Was it okay to slip in a suggestion or two while he was talking to his coworkers? Maybe over lunch, casually mention things like… like… well, he’d obviously have to come up with some ideas before he could hint at them. But what did people get each other for Christmas?

His sister used to get him chocolate bars. That was their big tradition – they’d exchange chocolate bars (Portia favored ones with caramel, and Zephyr liked anything crunchy) and then Zephyr would give Portia $20 and she’d spend it on new clothes for them both at the thrift store. Sometimes the charity lady would deliver a grocery bag full of canned ham and veggies to their door and Zephyr would make a big dinner. Otherwise he’d make French toast. French toast was a favorite staple for special occasions because they could buy all of the ingredients with food stamps. When their mother could pull herself together, she’d drive hem around to look at other people’s holiday decorations, but Zephyr usually opted out of that. That was all he knew about Christmas. He and Reg hadn’t even made up many traditions between them, aside from the artificial tree.

The Muellers did a pretty thorough Christmas. Zephyr and Reg had only started showing up at Portia’s house for the holidays recently, and for the most part his inability to contribute piles of gifts was forgiven. He tried to remember what he’d seen them give each other in the past couple years. Brit and Tammy got things like Barbie cars and jewelry kits. Portia gave Reg a nifty tee shirt last year and he got… he couldn’t remember what he got. It was something, though; he could remember the surprise of having a box thrown in his lap. And he remembered Brit being upset because she thought he didn’t like it… he’d been speechless over the fact that they’d bothered. That’s right… it was the photo album, filled with family photos.

However, that didn’t help. It didn’t help him figure out what to get Connor, either. That should be his main concern. He could get away with failing to make a wish list, but he alone was responsible for buying something for Connor (and for Shauna, as Reg wasn’t likely to do it). Connor should be relatively easy, he thought. He just had to remember what he used to need in college… Connor probably had the same needs.

“Good morning, um,” Connor said as he appeared in the doorway. “What are we doing today?”

“Pondering the implications of gift-giving and recipiency in contemporary contexts.” Zephyr waved Connor toward the empty chair next to his desk.

Connor sat. “Oh,” he said.

“Did Mariluz mention Donatello’s to you when you came in?”

Connor nodded.

“Is that… normal? Are we all supposed to do that?”

Connor gave Zephyr a blank look. “Do what?”

“You know, announce what we want our secret Santa people to get us,” Zephyr said.

“I don’t think so… why, did you want to do the same thing? I’m sure nobody would mind. I mean…”

Zephyr shook his head. “No, actually I was hoping I could get away with not doing that. I can’t think of anything to drop hints about. But I couldn’t complain if the person I picked dropped some hints. How do I know what to get them?”

“I dunno,” Connor replied, shrugging. “If you know what they like, get them one. Otherwise I guess we just get each other generic things like a box of chocolates.”

Zephyr regarded Connor for a moment. The kid looked like he needed a hundred things more urgently than he needed a box of chocolates. “Hmm. I don’t want to get this person a box of chocolates. I don’t really want anyone to get me a box of chocolates, either. Wht other kinds of options do we have?”

“I dunno,” said Connor.

“Well, what kinds of things would you like to get?”

“Do you have me?” Connor asked suspiciously.

“No. Just hypothetically, I mean,” Zephyr said with his best poker face. “Run some ideas you’d like by me and maybe I’ll get inspired.”

“Ah.” Connor gazed at the wall, thinking. “I dunno. Most of the things I need aren’t in the $25 area. I need my rent paid, my DSL reinstated, textbooks for next semester, a box spring. I need my girlfriend and me to stop arguing. Oh, and I especially need a new car. I was going to ask you… my car stalled in the parking lot just now, and I think it’s dead for good this time. Do you think Mr. Dykstra will let me leave it there until I figure out how to get rid of it?”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask,” Zephyr offered.

“Cool. Other than the really big things, I dunno. I need socks, but that’s the kind of thing your mom gets you. I wouldn’t mind having the newest Limp Bizkit CD, or anything by Filter.”

Zephyr smirked. “I don’t know if Limp Bizkit is particularly helpful, whatever the hell it is.”

“Oh. They’re one of the bands you won’t let me listen to while we’re driving. But you could get them a gift certificate to a music store. Everyone likes music.”

“Gift certificates aren’t much fun to open, though,” Zephyr pointed out.

Connor nodded. “I guess not. Hey, how about a bottle of scotch?”

“Are you 21 yet?” Zephyr asked.

“I will be in March! But I meant for whoever you’re shopping for. I mean, if they drink. I don’t think everyone drinks.”

“I give up,” Zephyr sighed. “To answer your original question, we have an appointment with the Brandeses in an hour – I want you to take notes – and then you and I are going to sort through receipts.”

“Okay,” said Connor. “About the car…”

“Give Marsh the keys in case he has to move it. And then ask around to see if anyone wants to carpool.”

As Connor left, Zephyr thought idly about this and that. And then the bare beginnings of an idea started to form in his head. It was going to cost more than $25, but the poor kid deserved it. Supporting oneself through college was difficult, Zephyr knew from experience, and little things meant all the difference in the world. And what were friends for, if not to make a difference?

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